


Scattering Ash

by afterwit



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 06:56:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterwit/pseuds/afterwit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lor’themar, Halduron, and Rommath burying Kael’thas on the Isle of Quel’danas.  Meant to fit shortly before “In the Shadow of the Sun” by Sarah Pine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scattering Ash

It was mid-afternoon when he touched down on the Isle, Halduron’s dragonhawk not far behind, and Rommath standing uneasily at the harbor, waiting.

“So…” The Magister turned away, holding his staff for support. ”…a draenei?” Voice quiet, but Lor’themar could sense the contempt in it.

“That was what I was told.” He turned back slightly, watching Halduron from the corner of his good eye, and nodded. ”You know as much as I.” They made it only a few paces before they found the captains, the blood elves standing not far from the boat and speaking to each other in hushed Thalassian.

The regent nodded once, and they fell into step. Selana’s voice was solemn when she spoke.

“We are awaiting your orders. The remains are being kept inside the terrace.” She nodded softly to the building looming on the hill above. ”We’ve mostly cleaned it out by now…”

“I see. Please, show us to him.” He watched her carefully for a moment, following the path up. Rommath was silent, understandably, his skin almost paler than usual, but he carried himself with as much pride as he could. Halduron looked away, watching the archers carefully, his eyes occasionally darting to a dragonhawk overhead.

They stepped inside, a statue of the wayward prince looming over them, and he looked away after a second. The building had once meant something; though he never quite understood the inner workings of the Magisters, he had always assumed it was meant to be something to help his people. Now, like so much else on the island, it was nearly a symbol of shame.

“Just ahead.” The captain nodded beyond the wall, and they walked around it. There were bodies on the walkway- not yet buried, but they were of little consequence. His eye focused on the corpse, and there was a visceral reaction to turn away, to recoil from it.

He had seen enough death, but nothing could steel him enough for this. Skin sallow, purple, bruised and unnaturally cracked in places, scarred in others.

Burned. Beaten. A green crystal embedded in his chest. Deep black blood on his clothes, around his neck…

His head was missing.

One of the other captains spoke, his voice calm, but cautious. ”The…other remains are being kept closer to the harbor.”

Rommath nodded slowly, and Lor’themar looked away from the corpse. ”Of course, the messenger said as much.” He let out a heavy breath. ”That would have been the only way.”

Halduron was still watching the body, his brows furrowed, and shook his head softly. ”…how are we to…”

Lor’themar looked back at what remained of their prince- the rightful heir to the throne. The words were quiet; he forced the emotions out of his voice. ”Burn one part.” He paused, turning away. He shouldn’t have to give these orders. Even as he doubted his place, he new there was no one else to give them. He could run from it, try to fool himself that he was just watching the kingdom until a rightful heir appeared, but before them lay the body of the last Sunstrider, and he was ordering the destruction of it.

“Bury the rest.” He closed his eyes. ”Scatter the ashes.” Turning back to Rommath, he raised his eyebrows slightly, asking in a gesture if that was a sound decision. The Magister nodded.

“That would be the best course of action. Unfortunately, we cannot…” His voice fell silent before he could finish the thought. Lor’themar almost envied the cowl Rommath always wore. It must be simple to hide his fear, his disgust.

Halduron nodded to the captains. ”Perhaps we should wait until the sun sets and the island clears. Would you be able to spare a few men?” He glanced back to the corpse, looking away after a second of thought. His eyebrows were pulled together, a slight frown on his face. ”We will bury the body.”

Rommath leaned on his staff for a moment, and looked back to Lor’themar. ”I should only need one other. Ilastar is here, I will speak with him after securing the…other remains.”

Lor’themar nodded, turning away. ”I will take the ashes.”

———————–

He stood on the coast, the tide nearly at his feet, the stars reflecting in the water.

How far had they come? Did it matter what had become of the once-proud kingdom of Quel’thalas? The prince had betrayed them, was driven mad by whatever had possessed him, and now…

Could he lead them? What had he done until now? He had trusted, for a time, that Kael’thas was trying to help them. He had left Lor’thermar to guard his people…and what had he done? He had waited. They had forged new loyalties, but if he were honest, all he had done was bide time.

He had always trusted that Kael’thas would return to them and take his rightful place on the throne.

Standing on the Isle of Quel’danas, a bag in his hands, he had to accept that would never happen. They were betrayed, and now…

Now it fell to him to lead the Sin’dorei. He was not alone, but the weight settled on him, the quiet seeping into the edges of his mind- the cold sorrow at all that had happened.

The breeze picked up slightly, and he looked back over the water.

He reached a gloved hand into the simple, cloth bag, taking a handful of ash and letting it fall over the water.

Could he be more than just a steward?

Another handful of ash drifted over the water, and he shook his head. He could mull over it all night. The truth was that he didn’t want to be the new prince, the new king. He could watch over Quel’thalas, but…

He would never be more than Lord Regent.

He shook the bag out, throwing it into the water with half-disgust. He would return home, and he would sleep. He might drink between then. When he awoke in the morning, he would begin to put things in order.

If they had no one else, he would not leave them. He had Halduron and, perhaps, Rommath. They should be able to piece together the pride of the Sin’dorei.

Dawn would shine again on Silvermoon.


End file.
